


Playing Magic

by Kefalion



Series: The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 4 [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Gen, blood politics, familiy or friends, fox and the hound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kefalion/pseuds/Kefalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy could have been a very lonely child, and he would have been had he not decided to venture into the forest. He thinks he has a friendship that will last forever. Life, however, is not that kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Ninth Round of the Fourth Season of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm writing as Beater 1 for The Wimbourne Wasps.
> 
> Name of round: A Very Potter Disneyland
> 
> A couple of seasons back there was a round all about basing fics off classic fairytales. Seeing as it was pretty popular, we're bringing that idea back again. Only this time, we've given each position a classic Disney animated film to incorporate into your story somehow.
> 
> This story doesn't have to be a complete re-write, nor does it have to be an AU; write your given prompt in however you please. Just remember that judges will be looking for originality!
> 
> As Beater 1 the movie I draw inspiration from is The Fox and the Hound
> 
> And these are the prompts I'm using to block our opponents, the Montrose Magpies:
> 
> 2\. (word) clumsy
> 
> 15\. (quote) 'The circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant. It's what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are.' - Mewtwo
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the world J.K. Rowling has created; it's all hers, from Diagon Alley to Hogwarts to all the people living there.
> 
> A special thanks to Ellen and Sophie for checking over the story and making sure that everything was written in neat, comprehensive English.

Growing up in a large manor house as an only child can be lonely. The quiet company of a lady-mother, the steady presence of a lord-father and all the toys money can buy doesn't change that. Adults are only willing to play with a young child for so many hours of the week, and toys—even magical toys—cannot provide true friendship. The brief respites from solitude that are provided by playdates with the children of other lords and ladies are too few and far between to make any real difference. While these playdates are always worth looking forward to, a couple of days of the month are not enough to let deep bonds grow.

Despite these conditions, Draco Malfoy was not a lonely child, at least not past the age of eight. Soon after his eighth birthday, Draco went further in his exploration of the vast grounds surrounding his family's home. Where intricate little gardens, sprawling lawns, and enclosures for the cultivation of rare magical plants ended, a small forest began. The trees were there to shield their ancestral home from Muggles so that their magic would be kept secret. Wards of different kinds were in place there, confusing any trespassing Muggles and convincing them that they had urgent matters to attend to elsewhere.

The forest had never interested Draco before—he had always had enough to occupy him in the large gardens—but having idled along the pebbled paths in the rose garden, strolled under the branches of the large rhododendron bushes up by the manor, and sprinted around the lily pond more times than he could count, something new would be welcome.

ooOoo

It was a normal summer's day with milky white clouds obscuring the sun, when Draco ventured under the boughs of the tall trees. The shade cast by them was not much different from the lighting out on the lawn, yet the atmosphere was different. The air was heavier, filled with moisture and the smell of decomposing leaves.

A woodpecker hammering away near a tree top, a small bird looking for food on the ground, and an owl hurrying away when disturbed were the most exciting things Draco had expected to see. He had not expected to meet a person. But by a creek, heavy with the rain that had fallen the day before, he met a boy. The boy had blond hair like Draco, although in a golden hue, rather than platinum.

The boy was strangely dressed: tight-fitting trousers, an equally tight-fitting top with strange symbols on it, and shoes that definitely weren't made from any part of an animal. Draco had never seen anything so stupid. Yet, he held his tongue. He knew better than to directly insult someone, even if they were strange. The other boy had no such reservations.

"You're strangely dressed," he said.

Draco had no idea what to reply. His robes were perfectly nice. The blue fabric brought out the colour of his eyes, or so his mother said.

"What?" he said. Draco almost flinched as he took in the high pitch of his own voice; his mother would have been scandalized if she'd heard him.

"You're a boy, are you not? Why are you wearing a dress?"

"This is not a dress; these are robes. Wizard's robes! Are you stupid?" Now, the insult came. He could no longer hold it back, feeling himself huffing up in indignation.

The other boy did not seem perturbed by being insinuated as stupid; rather, he brightened, smiling widely. "Ah! You're playing a game, I see. That makes a lot more sense. I'm Justin. Justin Finch-Fletchley. Do you think we could make it a game for two?"

Draco was about to reply that it wasn't a game, and he truly was a wizard—albeit a wizard without a wand, who'd never cast any spells, but a wizard all the same—when he realized that Justin must be a Muggle. He couldn't talk about magic with him. That would be breaking the law. Still, to tell a Muggle about magic sounded like a lot of fun. That way, he could prove everything he knew and impress. If Justin only thought it to be a game, surely, no harm would be done.

"All right," he said, "we can play together, but I decide all the rules; I decide how magic works."

Justin, who'd started looking nervous while Draco thought over his answer, smiled at the reply. "As you wish."

This was how their friendship began. It was an odd one, and oftentimes, Draco would feel rather clumsy, struggling to keep up with Justin when they shifted between playing magic and simply spending time together. When they played, Draco was in charge; he was the one who knew what was what and could share that knowledge. When they weren't playing, Draco regularly stumbled and made mistakes. He didn't know anything about video games, automobiles, telephones, and all the rest. Regarding those matters, Justin was the one with the knowledge. He did comment once or twice about Draco's ignorance, and that he was always dressed for their magic game, but Justin was never mean about it. Perhaps he sensed that Draco couldn't talk about it, and therefore refrained from pressing. It was a complicated dynamic, but one that, all things considered, had balance and therefore worked.

While Draco was with his friend, he never questioned how he could have someone without magic as his best friend, but when he was at home with his parents at night, and heard them discussing politics and critically commenting on how laws that increased the leniency and privilege given to Muggles were passing, he did question if the friendship he had with Justin was right. Justin was a Muggle. His parents were Muggles. His Grandparents were Muggles. They did not know that magic was real, had never seen magic, would never see magic. By listening to his parents, Draco had to infer that all of that made Justin lesser than him, and at night, he could sometimes believe it; however, each time he met Justin, he questioned how his parents could be right. Justin was smart and kind. He was a good friend, and his lack of magic didn't change that.

By always meeting alone in the forest, away from judging adults, Draco and Justin kept their friendship alive. Their meetings were shorter in winter when temperatures pushing freezing had them longing for calm activities indoors. By unspoken agreement, they never invited each other over, although Justin had suggested it once or twice in the beginning.

As they got older, Draco became afraid that Justin would no longer want to play magic, and then he would no longer have anything to contribute to their dynamic. That was solved by agreeing that they would write a book together. The magic Draco knew could become the world that characters of their imagination lived in, and thus, his magical knowledge was kept relevant.

Eventually, age did drive them apart. They both turned eleven, and in the autumn, they would both go away to boarding schools. Draco and Justin provided names of schools far away, both made up, though they did not know that. They promised that they would correspond by letter, that their story would not die and that they would be the youngest authors in history to publish something co-written.

ooOoo

Walking down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express, thinking that he would make his parents proud by making the right connections, Draco expected that he would see older students, and that he would find Harry Potter ready to accept his friendship. He did not expect to find the boy who already was his best friend.

"Draco!" Justin exclaimed from by the window, face lighting up in happiness as he spotted Draco.

Draco swallowed. He felt the heavy gazes of Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle on his back, and he noticed the curious eyes of Ernie McMillan and Terry Boot, who were sharing the compartment with Justin. He slammed the door shut and hurried down the corridor.

He should have been elated, but he only felt dread. Justin was heading for Hogwarts. Justin wasn't a Muggle, after all. Justin was a Muggle-born. Justin had magic, and that was why he had been able to go into the forest back home, though Muggles could not. Justin was his best friend and his greatest secret. He had no idea how he could go about keeping both his friend and his secret, now that things had changed.

He managed to avoid Justin on the train by abandoning his search for Harry Potter and retreating to a compartment in an area occupied by senior Slytherins. No Muggle-born first year would be allowed past. He dragged Theodore Nott into the fourth seat in the boat that took them across the lake to Hogwarts, and as they waited for the sorting to start, he manoeuvred through the crowd to keep Justin from getting closed to him. He could not let anyone know that he was friends with Justin. He shuddered to think what would happen if the information got back to his father. It had been alright as long as no one knew. At Hogwarts, things were different. He had an image to live up to. Deviating from his set course, deviating from what was expected of him could be dangerous—for both of them.

It wasn't until Tuesday morning, when he shared his first class together with the Hufflepuffs, that Draco had to see Justin. The look he received was one of utmost betrayal. It hurt. It made his stomach roll, and ice clench at something in the middle of his chest. Despite how much he wanted to go sit down next to Justin, to push away McMillan and claim his seat and tell Justin that everything he'd ever said about magic was real and wasn't it amazing, he didn't. He turned up his nose and walked to the front of the classroom, picking a seat from which he would not have to see Justin.

On Wednesday morning, he received his first letter from home, and then the answer appeared to him. He could write to Justin! He had planned to do that all along. That Justin was only sitting a table over, glaring into a bowl of oatmeal didn't change that. He could explain. He could set up a meeting away from prying eyes. It was a brilliant plan!

ooOoo

It was a stupid plan. Draco looked around the corner again. The Trophy Room was dark and deserted, but Filch and his stupid cat might show up at any moment. He was certain that midnight had come and passed, yet Justin had not showed up. He waited for what must have been hours more, and the only voice he heard was that of one of the ghosts who floated past in the corridor outside.

He walked a lap around the room, hoping beyond hope that Justin would turn up after all. That's when he stumbled over it: the notebook in which he and Justin had written down the latest draft of their story. He turned to the last page.

_If you cannot stand to be seen with me, we cannot be friends. It's your decision. Please, Draco, don't let this be the end._

Forlorn, Draco slid down to the floor, not caring that he was dirtying his robes. His pride choked him. It would lose him his best friend, his only friend. But he had lived eight years without a best friend, and he could do it again; family, he could never live without. He made his decision.

ooOoo

During summer, Draco visited the forest that separated his home from the Muggle-world every day, nursing a fool's hope that maybe, things would be different here. Justin never came.

ooOoo

Draco stopped grinning at Potter's stupid face and instead clenched his jaw as he saw Justin's terrified one. The snake wasn't interested in Potter; it turned, hissing and coiling towards Justin. That was not how it was supposed to happen. Of course, Lockhart, the fool, had only made matters worse. At least Professor Snape was a proper wizard and dealt with Draco's mishap.

Justin ran out though, and Draco ran after. He'd not spoken properly with Justin since before starting Hogwarts, but his chalk-white, terrified face wasn't something Draco could ignore.

"Justin!" he called, voice echoing in the empty corridor.

"Get lost, Malfoy!"

"I just want to know if you're okay."

Justin whirled around. Draco had never seen him look so angry. "You lost your right to ask about my well-being a long time ago. Leave me alone, do you hear me?"

"If that's what you really want."

"It is. Better start walking fast; you wouldn't want to be seen with a Mudblood like me." Contradictory to his words, Justin was the one who walked away, leaving Draco to watch his back.

Later that day, when news of a student being petrified started to circulate, Draco regretted not being more persistent.

ooOoo

If Draco had wanted to change his mind, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets only made it more difficult. Justin had gotten to see how badly some wizards hated Muggle-borns, and coming to the conclusion that Draco agreed with them was only logical. Perhaps Draco was coming to agree with them. The other Slytherins were not sympathetic to Muggles or Muggle-borns. His parents detested them. Justin had proven that he would not fight for their friendship. His peers might be right.

The rise of the Dark Lord that followed two years later solidified their positions in the world. They were on opposite sides. Their words had never been meant for unification. If they had remained friends, it would have ended as isolationist ideals bloomed either way. It was just as well that it had ended before it could have caused either of them any real trouble.

ooOoo

As a prisoner in his own home, without a wand and with his mother and father subdued into people who were mere shades of their former selves, Draco wondered if he had not chosen the wrong side after all. It was not about blood or heritage. The Dark Lord only used those words as excuses for tyranny. No brighter, better world would dawn at the end of the war if their side won. It would only be more of the same: darkness, terror, and bloodshed.

Magic was meant to beautiful. It was supposed to be like the contents of a story book, something young boys could marvel over whether they had seen magic all their lives or only thought it to be fantasy.

Draco slipped away into the forest and found the creek where he had met Justin for the first time. Justin was there again.

"You look awful," he said, a strange mimicry of the first words he had ever spoken to Draco.

"Thanks."

Draco sat down next to him on a large log. It was a campsite. Items were strewn all over. A tent was set up nearby. Justin must have lived there for quite some time, keeping hidden because of his heritage.

"You won't report me, will you?" said Justin.

"No." It did not bear thinking of what would happen to Justin should the Dark Lord's people capture him.

"So you don't think I stole my wand from a real wizard?"

"You're a real wizard." He swallowed. "Blood doesn't change that."

"So you've finally realized that, have you?"

"I think I always knew, but I didn't want to see."

Justin made a small humming noise.

"Seeing hurts."

"So does ignorance."

"I don't know what I can do."

"Anything, Draco. As long as you're alive, you can do anything."

"Is that why you've stayed hidden?"

"I suppose you can say that, waiting for the right moment to make a difference."

"When will you know?"

"I'll know, and so will you."

They sat together, talking until the sun went down, then Draco had to return home, home to the terror and darkness.

The next time he went to the creek, all signs that Justin had been there were gone.

ooOoo

When Potter showed up at the Manor, Draco knew what Justin had meant. Here, he had the opportunity to change everything. He could give Potter up to the Dark Lord, continuing on the path he had chosen, or he could deny that it was Potter under those strange deformities, and do what he knew was right—one small choice with the potential to change everything, in honour of a friendship that could have lasted forever.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 6th August 2016
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the story, please let me know what you thought!


End file.
